Taking Back The Grill

Why do men dominate the outdoor grill?
A group of women sets out to explore this male preserve

As seen in The Toronto Star

 

Generally speaking the meat of the matter is this: Barbequing is a guy thing. At some point in history, guys seized the spatula and have not loosened their grip since.

 

A group of women are now boldly going where only a few of their sisters have gone before – to uncover the magnetic attraction between guy and grill.

An artist, a firefighter, a restaurateur, a lawyer and my retired mother are soaking up the secrets espoused by Toronto’s foremost expert on real barbecue, Phil Nyman, owner/chef of Phil’s Original BBQ Restaurant.

 

A cloud of sweet-smelling smoke billows from a quarter-inch steel-welded cooker, as Phil discusses techniques of cooking tough meat like brisket, pork shoulder and ribs.

 

Along with the smoke, giddiness wafts through the air, which comes from the feeling of sneaking a peek, or treading on sacred ground.

 

Are the women arming themselves to wage a culinary war? Is it a case of hot dog envy?

No. For these gals, it’s an opportunity to gain insight into the world of guys and their grills, and to ponder the question: where do we fit in?

 

Phil explains that outdoor smokers come in various sizes and styles, and some real enthusiasts even make their own. “I know of some guys who turned an old Cessna fuselage into a smoker,” he says.

 

Anne Vahi-Bruining, the artist, pipes up, “That’s definitely a guy thing!” Phil chuckles and admits, “It’s true. I’ve yet to see a smoker made out of a Barbie playhouse.”

 

And so it begins.

 

“Our household has the typical male/female division of roles,” confesses my mom, Trish Sobie, who is representing the more seasoned (60-plus) generation.

 

“My husband, Malcolm, runs to the barbeque, turns it on, and then runs back and asks, ‘is the meat prepared?’

 

“Meanwhile, not only am I getting the meat ready, I’m trying to make the salads and other side dishes as well.”

 

In other words, she, like many women, is the behind-the-scenes multi-tasker while Malcolm, like many men, has one responsibility: don’t burn the buns!

 

Perhaps multi-tasking ability is the reason that women juggle kitchen duty – while men kick back and tend the grill?

 

“I think multi-tasking is something that’s passed on from our mothers to us, from us to our daughters,” says Phil’s wife and business partner, Gloria Nyman. “It becomes natural for women to multi-task.”

 

It’s not that we haven’t broken into the barbeque domain,” adds Anne. “Many of us have. It’s just that we get the guys to do it because we have to do everything else!”

 

For an expert opinion on the battle of the sexes, Ellie Tesher, the Star’s syndicated advice columnist, was consulted.

 

“Women should learn to barbeque. It’s good to know. But do we really want to permanently take on that task too? I would say only if he wants to take on the salad, the dessert and look after the kids.

 

“Be realistic,” she adds. “If you take back the barbeque, you may be taking back the entire meal.”

 

Ellie suggests looking at this hot topic from two perspectives: contemporary and historical. For modern men, she says, the barbeque is like the TV clicker. Both offer a sense of control in the home, a domain, broadly speaking, that is otherwise overseen by women.

 

From a historical perspective, barbequing harkens back to when men hunted animals, dragged the carcasses to the cave, butchered them and then sat around the fire while the women cooked. “It’s primal nostalgia,” says Ellie.

 

But the question remains: Why do we continue to do the bulk of the work? Are we on autopilot? If so, maybe we need to take a long, hard look at our own behaviour.

 

Heather Forbes, the firefighter, says it comes down to priorities and choices. “For most women, the package and presentation is important. I’m all about the little touches like folded napkins,” she says. “Whereas Ron (her boyfriend, a Metro Toronto police officer) is all about the meat.”

 

Perhaps it also comes down to control, or more accurately, relinquishing control.

“I have to admit, I’ve recently booted my husband Terry out of barbequing, just like I booted him out of the kitchen before that,” says Anne. “I got ‘control’ of the barbequing by delegating.

 

“I give him the meat and whatever sides need to be grilled and say, ‘don’t burn this, lightly sear that.’ I send him out with a list of instructions.”

 

How about switching roles? Girls grab the grill, boys tackle the kitchen?

Silence.

 

After a pause, Heather ventures, “If Ron would do what I’d like him to do and clean as he goes…” She doesn’t have an opportunity to finish. The cheering and slapping of high-fives is deafening.

 

Okay. Now let’s look at the Big Bang theory; you know, the fear of lighting the barbeque. Aside from Heather, the firefighter, all admit to feeling some trepidation about playing with fire.

 

And to be fair, some men do too. But barbeques, like motorcycles and power tools, are toys, and for most guys, the fun outweighs the risk. (Or is the fun in the risk?)

 

Christine Pallotta, the lawyer, says her husband Tom Gorwill does most of the cooking on the barbeque and in the kitchen. However, like a legal contract, certain provisos exist. “I usually barbeque the fish and veggies because Tom would be happy with a piece of meat and nothing else.”

 

Phil offers his take: “I think men are easier to please. All that Martha Stewart stuff – the veggie salad, the sautéed onions – just isn’t important.

 

“We’ll eat it,” he quickly adds. “We’re just not that interested in it.”

 

We move on to the demonstrations. After showing us how to make a rub, which is a combination of spices used to coat the food, Phil manhandles a meaty rack of ribs and a massive pork shoulder.

 

He prefers side ribs to baby back, because side ribs are marbled with fat, which is fabulous for slow smoke cooking. Pork shoulder is used to make pulled pork, a mouth-watering specialty in the Carolinas.

 

For the finale, Phil demonstrates how to cook Beer Can Chicken.

 

“For Beer Can Chicken, you need a six-pack of beer,” he says, as her loosens one can from the pack and removes the entire top with a can opener.

 

Holding up the topless can of beer, Phil commands, “Then drink half the can.” The open end of the chicken is inserted upright onto the beer can and Phil says now it’s ready to be cooked.

 

What about the remaining five beers? “In the time it takes you to polish off the rest of the beers – about 2 ½ hours – the chicken will be done.”

 

Which brings us to the connection between beer and barbeque. If we choose to exert our newfound grill power by orchestrating a takeover of the backyard barbeque, does that automatically mean we have to guzzle the golden suds? Or will coolers and cabernet do?

 

“We can mould it to fit us,” says Trish. “Just like what Phil said earlier about making a homemade smoker out of an airplane. We can make one out of a Barbie play house.”